The tree is busy, playing with a breeze;
It likes to play when it is done with ease.
It bustles, rustles, whispers, waves, and sways,
Quite happy doing this in many ways.
Of course, in stronger winds it has to fight,
Concerned about its safety and its plight.
For it knows all too well it cannot move,
It has to stand its ground, and mettle prove.
So, since with Nature we have no recourse,
No way for us to curtail Nature’s force,
We should give all our trees a thank you vote,
How much we value them, that praise denote.
So under the spreading leaves you hear above,
Remind yourself how much that sound you love.
© Richard Williams